


What you do

by OwlosaurusRex



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Murder, Other, Suicide, written for a prompt, written for funsies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:05:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3487598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlosaurusRex/pseuds/OwlosaurusRex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in response to the prompt: "Your muse walks in on mine holding a knife and standing over a dead body. (mun decides if the body is important to muse or if they are just a random person)"<br/>I just inserted Joseph and Sebastian and had fun with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What you do

**Author's Note:**

> This is unedited and I didn't even proof read it lol because it was just for fun so if it's a little sloppy that's why! Yoooo~~  
> Also, I had an idea for a "happier" ish ending but I don't know if I will end up writing it. If I do I will tack it on as a second chapter or something.

_What do I do now?_

It was a simple question with complex answers and the power to consume.

_What **can** I do?_

There _are_ answers, there always is, and though it was his job, his damned livelihood to find them, he just couldn't.

The what's and why's and who's all smeared together in one long burning trail down Sebastian's throat, and when he'd nearly finished his bottle he thought, maybe, he'd come up with a solution.

~

 

Joseph gripped the steering wheel tightly with his bare hand as the light changed ahead of him and he was forced to stop beneath the red glare of life outside of his own problems. He took the opportunity to try Sebastian's phone again. He had to remove his gloves to punch in the same numbers he always did, and saw Sebastian's name flash on the screen. He listened closely as if he might be able to pick something up between the long, insistent ringing but when he caught the answering machine _again_ he gritted his teeth and nearly missed the fact the light had changed.

Sebastian hadn't come into work today, hadn't called, hadn't so much as sent him a message and while that wasn't something to get too upset over it just--it put a bad taste in Joseph's mouth. Even when Seb was having a particularly bad day, he always answered his phone or responded within an hour or two so when Joseph's multitude of increasingly worried calls and messages were left unanswered he'd started to worry.

Joseph took a deep breath when he heard the final beep of the machine.

"Sebastian? I'm heading over now so--if you get this message just call me back, okay? I tried reaching Myra too and it doesn't seem like she's answering her phone either. I just want to make sure everything's all right..." He paused a moment, listening to the empty space over the phone and feeling a sudden wave of uneasiness. "Just...hang in there, okay? I'm almost there and I've got a spare key so--" the message cut him off with a sharp beep and he threw the phone in the passenger seat in frustration.

Traffic in the Pineridge neighborhood was slow and Joseph contemplated speeding but knew that he didn't have any _solid_ excuse for doing so. Maybe he was just being paranoid after all. He was sure that was it. He might find Seb drunk off his ass, sure, maybe even passed out, fine, but Sebastian could take care of himself and he would certainly take care of Myra. Joseph took in another deep breath, counted to ten, exhaled and he'd reached their apartment complex. Parking was sparse, as always, but he was lucky enough to find a space on the same street and was quick to jog down the sidewalk and up the few short steps to the door.

He didn't know why he was getting upset. Sebastian would probably be angry for his intrusion and his "nagging" but Joseph would deal with that when it came, for now he just had to fish out the right key--that one! -- and get inside.

The apartment complex was clean and dim, warmer than the gloomy weather outside and yet slightly less cheerful. The carpets were too dark and the neighbors too quiet, they'd probably complain about his running up the stairs but he didn't care. Right now his mind was set and that little _itch_ of anxiety he'd been managing with varying amounts of success for the past ten years of his life was growing. It scratched at his nerves and against the inside of his skull until he was certain there was something wrong here.

Sebastian was strong, he could handle himself. Myra was strong, she could manage too. They all missed Lily but that didn't give Joseph any right to _worry_ the way he was. He feared it was beginning to get irrational.

Joseph's trip to the third floor was quick and adrenaline-fueled so that when he reached the Castellanos residence at the end of the hall he still had breath to spare. He hesitated, listened closely to the quiet beyond the door and knocked more forcefully than he had intended.

Another deep breath, count to ten, exhale--no one answered. Maybe Sebastian was passed out somewhere inside and Myra might be out working her case like she was prone to doing these days. Right, that was logical. Joseph tried knocking again anyway, clearing his throat and calling inside.

"Sebastian? Hey...I'm coming in now." He waited a moment, two, then slid the key in the lock and deftly opened the door. It swung open easily enough and Joseph peeked inside hesitantly. The apartment was dark and smelled of cigarettes, booze, and mint. Myra liked mints so Sebastian had been buying all sorts of them lately to try and cheer her up somehow. Joseph stepped inside and closed the door quietly.

"Sebastian? Myra?" He called a bit louder now that he was inside and squinted in the gloom to try and make out anyone sitting--or perhaps laying-- in the living room.

"It's Joseph. I'm just here to check up on things." Joseph cringed at his own words, knowing that they wouldn't settle well with Seb's stubborn pride.

When there was still no answer, Joseph stepped in further, one gloved hand trailing over the back of the couch as he passed it and the other reaching for the hall wall  and the light switch he knew was there. He tripped before he reached it, falling into the wall and sending a thick empty bottle rolling loudly against the worn hardwood. It was so _quiet_ in there, quiet and dark enough that it was impossible to miss the faint glow of light leaking out from beneath a door down the hallway.

Joseph rubbed at his arm where he had hit the wall and flicked the light on. It was a single small light set into the ceiling about halfway down the hall and offered less light than he would have hoped but enough to make out the doors as he passed them. The bathroom, their office--even his shoes sounded loud against the creaking wood floors. Loud and unnatural.

"Sebastian?" Joseph felt like a trespasser as he inched his way down the hall and closer to their bedroom whose door was not quite shut. A light was on so someone must be home but--Joseph paused as he reached the door, catching the faint sound of voices? No, a single voice. Low, mumbling. Joseph froze in place, standing in the hall with his hand against the doorframe and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't make out what the voice was saying. Maybe it wasn't Sebastian or Myra at all; maybe he'd stumbled into some sort of home invasion. But that didn't make sense, the door had been locked and nothing looked particularly ransacked.

Joseph leaned closer and cautiously reached for the doorknob. The mumbling inside was slow, not at all frantic or hurried, and when Joseph inched the door open he was met with the sharp smell of whiskey and something else.

The voice didn't stop but as Joseph opened the door a little wider he could make out the sobs, the little hitches in speech and thick unintelligible slurring.

"Sebastian?" Joseph whispered and leaned forward to peek around the door. Something about all of this was making his skin crawl and that _smell--_

The inside of the room was nearly as dark as the rest of the apartment save for the single short lamp on a bedside table that cast light and long shadows across the room. There was a glass on the table, nearly empty, and a bottle of pills but Joseph didn't quite care about that.

Joseph had to squint as his eyes adjusted but the man on the bed was unmistakable, hunched over and leaning against the headboard. The light etched Sebastian's face in a way that made his reddened eyes look dark and lifeless. He was staring down at his lap and Joseph realized there was someone else there. He was speaking to her and stroking her hair, it was Myra but...

Sebastian didn't look up when Joseph swung the door open further. Myra was lying on the bed, her head cradled against Sebastian's chest and her body covered in blankets. They were white.  Mostly white.

Sebastian's voice hitched again and he mumbled to his wife, stroking her hair. She didn't respond. Joseph's first instinct was to turn and leave, he'd obviously stumbled in on something personal something he had no place in but that smell and--and Myra didn't speak. She wasn't crying she wasn't...

Joseph caught his breath, recognizing the smell for what it was, the dark color on her blouse, on the blankets, on Sebastian's _hands--_

Sebastian lifted a hand from where it had been nestled in the blankets and reached back for his glass. His fingers shone with blood under the lamp light and he left long red smudges against the table, the glass, and his face when he managed to toss back the last gulp of whiskey. His face twisted at the burn and his eyes closed.

"Sebastian?" Joseph stared blankly, stood in the middle of the doorway, his hand still on the doorknob and his heart pounding so loudly he could barely hear his own voice.

"Wh-What...what happened? Sebastian?!" Joseph looked from Myra's pale face up to Seb's and found his partner staring. He looked angry.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here, Joseph?" Sebastian's voice was broken, scrambled, and weak. He couldn't maintain his anger for long and soon returned his attention to his wife, letting his empty glass fall to his lap carelessly.

Joseph gaped.

"What? I--Sebastian..." Joseph took a step closer, then another, the light glinted off the knife where it lay nestled on the stained bed covers and Joseph stopped.

"What happened?" Joseph's voice was firmer now despite the trembling in his body and the _panic_ in his chest. He stared at Sebastian expectantly. It had to have been some sort of accident somehow, some sort of...Myra was the love of his life there was no way this was real, maybe she had killed herself or--

"Go home, Joseph."

Sebastian sounded tired, so tired. He rested his head against Myra's and stroked her cheek with a bloody thumb.

Joseph shook his head in disbelief but managed to get ahold of himself enough to recognize what this was. He looked from Sebastian to the knife and back to Myra. The blood was spreading from her chest--a stab wound? But there was no evidence of struggle and...the pills. His gaze darted from one thing to the next as he connected the dots and only succeeded in twisting his chest tighter and tighter.

"What did you do?" It was a stupid question but all Joseph could think to muster. Sebastian's anger returned and he scowled at him with bleary eyes.

"Go the fuck home, Joseph--"

"No, Seb, look at you! Look at Myra--what have you _done?_ " Joseph was shaking his head and took another step closer, nearly at the foot of the bed now. Sebastian narrowed his eyes at his partner, his friend, and groped around in the blankets until his fingers found the slick blade of his knife.

Sebastian looked down at his hand and back to his wife.

"What _could_ I do, Joseph? She was suffering--we're both suffering. She doesn’t deserve all of this." His voice wavered and tears wet his face without any sign of resistance.

"I'm so sorry...I want my family back, Joseph. I want my baby girl..." His voice broke apart and he lifted his hand, fingers trembling around the hilt of his knife, to wipe his nose against his ruddy knuckles.

Joseph reached his arms out when he saw the knife, holding up his palms as if he could stop Sebastian from doing anything more.

"Hey, hey! Seb..." He lowered his voice, tried to keep it calm. He'd been in similar positions before but he'd always had Sebastian at his side and he wasn't sure he could keep his cool when Sebastian looked so helpless and goddamn drunk.

"Seb, killing Myra isn't going to bring your family back," Joseph said carefully, trying to inch closer to the bed. "How could it? She didn't deserve this-- _you_ don't deserve this, Sebastian--"

"I know!" Sebastian's words were hardly intelligible and when he looked up at Joseph again he looked like an entirely different man. Joseph had never seen Seb like this, this hysterical, this _unreasonable_. It was terrifying.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes, having pieced together in his foggy brain that Joseph was getting closer. He shook his head.

"I don't want this, Joseph, but what else can I do? We can't be together here. Myra...she couldn't sleep. She was getting sick from it all and..." Seb looked down at the knife in his hands with a chilling resolve. "We can't bring Lily back, but..."

Joseph felt his heart skip a beat and he had to draw in quick breaths to keep him steady. Sebastian couldn't bring his family together here so he meant to--

"Seb, no!" Joseph took another step and his legs touched the foot of the bed. "No, no you can't do this. This isn't the way to go about it, Sebastian. This isn't right."

"What other way is there?" There was that hysterical tone again and Joseph had never been this scared before in his life. "I miss her so much, Joseph." Sebastian shook his head and stared at Joseph with a deep desperation born of pain and (no doubt) alcoholism.

"I know, Seb, I know, but...you can't, you can't do this." Joseph too another step, was nearly within reach now and Sebastian glared.

"Just go home, Joseph. You're not su-supposed to be here. I'm not going to deal with this anymore. I have to do it now, I have to." He looked to Myra, drew the blanket up further over her body as if to tuck her in for the night.

"No--no, Sebastian, please!" Joseph eyed the knife. If he could get a little closer.

"Please, just, wait a minute and we can figure this all out." Desperation had dropped into his voice and Joseph bit at his tongue.

"Nah, Joseph. There's nothing to figure out, now." Sebastian looked up from his wife, glanced at Joseph but didn't meet his eye.

"You've been such a good friend, Joseph. I-I owe you a lot--"

"Seb, stop that--"

"I really don't want you to be here, I didn't want you to see any of this. You'll blame it on yourself--"

"Seb!" Joseph's voice cracked and he was so close, so close. If he was careful he might.

"Seb, just wait a minute now--"

"It's not your fault." Seb looked up again but still couldn't meet his eyes. He saw how close Joseph was, had enough logic left in his drunken brain to recognize his last chance and Joseph could see it in his face.

"S-Seb--Seb! Please-"

Joseph saw him tense, reached for him but he jerked away. There was no hesitation, no shallow attempt, and when the knife touched Sebastian's throat it had a purpose. It was meant to be a clean arch but didn't quite make it. Blood sprayed, flecked Joseph's glasses and pulsed against his hands as he reached for him desperately.

"No! No, no, no, Sebastian--oh, God, please, no--"

Sebastian shuddered, his severed artery gushing in steady pulses and blood welling up in his throat. It stained his teeth, gurgled, sprayed with his choking coughs and painted his paling face. Joseph ripped the knife away, didn't care where it went and grabbed at Sebastian, gripping at his throat, trying to keep it all in.

"Oh my God--Seb!" Joseph could hardly see through the red on his glasses but he could feel Sebastian convulsing, shuddering, the gargling sounds making his stomach churn. Joseph gripped tighter, tried to find Seb's artery among the deluge and stared at his face through shock and tears.

"Oh--no, no please don't, Seb! Please! No, it-it's going to be okay, I can help you!" He groped around, fingers slipping, applying pressure until the hot spurts of blood ceased and he was at least partially certain he'd slowed the bleeding. Sebastian was staring up at him with those eyes he'd never seen before and Joseph felt so helpless. He grabbed at the blankets, shoved them against his throat, tried to stop it all from coming out but--his phone! He'd left it in the car, he'd--Joseph looked around desperately. Nothing on this table but--Myra's! There it was. He could reach it if he was careful, quick. He shifted, pressed down harder and took in a deep breath to steady himself. He could do this, he could do it--Sebastian's hands groped at him, gripped weakly at his arm and there was something in his eyes that made Joseph hesitate. Sebastian was begging him.

“I can’t do it, Seb. I can’t let-let this happen. I’m sorry, I--” Sebastian’s hand tightened and he coughed and choked.

“D-Don’t try to talk, I--” Joseph looked to the phone again. There was still hope if the ambulance got here quickly enough. They could save him; they could save Sebastian and...and he’d go to prison for killing his wife. Joseph let out an exasperated sound and looked back down at Sebastian as his eyes rolled back. How could Joseph be expected to make this decision?

He wanted Sebastian to live. Joseph _needed_ him. He couldn’t let his partner die when he had a chance of saving him and certainly not like _this_ \--by his own hand of all things. After--After killing his wife.

Joseph looked to Myra. She was cold, growing rigid, dead. She was dead and Seb had killed her. There was no way Sebastian could get out of it and Joseph doubted that he would even try. If he saved Sebastian then…

Joseph felt a scream building in his throat and clenched his eyes shut tightly. He’d lose Sebastian either way. Either Seb died here or he lost _everything_ and spent the rest of his days locked up somewhere, suffering. He would have nothing left.

“Fuck, Seb!” Joseph hissed from between clenched teeth. His vision blurred and tears dripped onto the lenses of his glasses. “What-What am I supposed to do?” his voice trembled and he sobbed. “H-How am I...How am I supposed to let you die? I need you here with me…” his voice failed him and he watched as Sebastian choked and shuddered, his eyes fogging over and rolling back.

“Seb!” Joseph sobbed his name, felt his control of the situation deteriorating. “I-I’m so-I’m so sorry…” Joseph shook his head in denial even as he loosened his grip; felt the blood rush through his fingers and saw it stain his sleeves. He let his hands drop, watched Seb slump against the headboard--against his wife and felt his stomach churn.

Joseph wasn’t sure how long he sat there, had closed his eyes at some point and couldn’t bring himself to open them. The gurgling had stopped, he couldn’t feel the tremors in the bed anymore and the blood cooled on his hands. Maybe if he sat here long enough it might all be a dream, some sort of joke.

Joseph took in a deep, tremulous breath, tried to count to ten, broke down at seven and opened his eyes to stare through the red smudged lenses at his two friends--his own family lying together on their bed. He felt out of place again and when he stood he wasn't sure his legs would hold. He stumbled, caught himself and managed to shuffle around and retrieve Myra’s phone. The screen didn’t want to register his wet fingers so he wiped the blood on his vest and tried again. It rang twice.

“Yes. This is Detective Joseph Oda of the KCPD…” his voice broke and he glanced over at his partner and couldn’t help but think that he looked peaceful somehow.

“I need a unit out in Pineridge. There-uh-” he tried to breathe again. “Two fatalities and...I need a team out here as soon as possible.” he wasn’t sure if he was making sense but something in his tone must have gotten through to the operator because they coaxed the address out of him tried to get details but he couldn’t bring himself to describe it. He pulled the phone from his ear, still hearing the faint hum of the operator trying to speak to him, and ended the call. He set the phone back on the table and sat down at the foot of the bed. What else could he do?

_What do I do now?_


End file.
